


Time By Moonlight

by Dirty_Corza



Series: I'll Be Holmes For Christmas [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Hand Job, Jam, M/M, Rimming, innapropriate use of jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock spend Christmas alone together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time By Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Written for freemanrage on tumblr. Love you! Enjoy!

It wasn't their first Christmas together. John had been living with Sherlock five years now, and every year had been spent with the man. They'd had two holiday murders, one robbery, and a case of mistaken identity to solve so far. But this year was different. There was no holiday case that they would be working on together. In fact, John knew that Sherlock had told Lestrade he wasn't allowed to call for the entire week.

It was their first Christmas alone together, just the two of them in their flat -barely decorated, thanks to their land lady- with nothing but each other to entertain them. John had thought it would mean a lot of sex, which it did, but there was more than that. Sherlock insisted on John picking out his favorite Christmas movies to watch, and snuggling together on the sofa with hot chocolate to enjoy them. It was amazing, watching Muppets, Black Adder, and Mr Bean with Sherlock. There were snarky comments, laughs at inappropriate times, and it was all perfect.

That was all leading up to the day of. Sherlock hadn't told him what the plans were, exactly, for Christmas day. All he had said when John asked was “Shh” and he'd been given quite the distracting kiss. Now that the day had come, he was tingling with excitement, from his head down to his-. Or maybe that wasn't just excitement, the way he felt Sherlock's tongue probing at his asshole. Oh my, that felt good. And by god it was a wonderful way to wake up, your boyfriend lazily tongue fucking you.

“Sherlock,” he groaned as his brain warmed up enough for his speech center to activate.

“Mmm...” there were no words in the reply from his lover, just the lazy tongue turning much more purposeful, and the faint smell of raspberry followed by slick fingers joining that tongue.

Flavored lube, his mind belatedly supplied. Sherlock was using flavored lube on his ass. While tongue fucking him, with fingers brushing over his prostate and oh, that felt nice. Better than nice. God it felt fantastic, and how was his brain coming up with all these words when all that was coming out of his mouth were incoherent moans and groans.

Before he was aware what was coming, he was there, at the point of orgasm, cumming with a low, very pleased, moan. “God, Sherlock, that was..” He turned, pulling the other up for a kiss, moaning at the taste of raspberry still on his lips, only it wasn't raspberry lube. With surprise, his eyes opened wide. He knew that texture, the intensity of that flavor could be from nothing but jam. He groaned into the kiss, pulling Sherlock in closer to get all of it from his mouth as he could.

Sherlock didn't much care for jam, John knew it, but apparently he was willing to put up with it in order to get this reaction from John, if the needy groans now coming from Sherlock were any sign. “You motherfucking bastard.” he murmured, turning his face to kiss, bite, mark that beautiful throat. “Waking me up like that, making me feel so good, doing that. God I love you, I love the fact you're mine.” He let his mouth continue over his shoulders, marking them as well, causing Sherlock to start rutting against him. “I love you so goddamn much.” the words meant everything as he let his hand trail down, cupping Sherlock's erection, worshiping it with strokes and squeezes until Sherlock came, adding his mess to John's.

Later, after a shower to clean up, the two were seated downstairs, eating toast -with jam, of course- and just being together. It was, in John's mind, just a continuation of perfection. There wasn't likely to be any passionate shag over the table with jam for lube, but he didn't really mind that. There would be other days for that. This was Christmas, and he had Sherlock to himself, and by god he'd enjoy every second of it.

“Present time, John.” Sherlock announced as he finished a last bite of toast, getting up and leading the way to the living room. There weren't a lot of presents to open, most people had just sent cards, and they didn't exactly have a large group of friends.

Mrs. Hudson gave them each new pajamas, matching ones, in green for John and purple for Sherlock. Lestrade and Mycroft gave them an assortment of 'toys' that made John blush to look at and know Sherlock's goddamn brother had been a part of selecting, but since they had done something similar for the pair, he wasn't about to complain. Harry got him an i-something. It looked complicated, and he was sure he wouldn't be able to figure out how it worked. For Sherlock, she got a book. The gay karma sutra. John was going to kill her one of these days, for implying that Sherlock wasn't doing enough in the way of pleasuring her brother.

Last came the gifts for each other. John had gotten Sherlock a jumper, black, that he knew was baggy enough Sherlock wouldn't have to take it off for him to do wonderfully filthy things to his torso. Sherlock's gift, though, was nowhere to be seen, not that John was really expecting anything. But then Sherlock was down on one knee before him, reaching under the couch to grad a small box. John's brain was out the window, looking at the snow, and the pretty, and thinking of how perfect a day this was, not paying attention to the fact his boyfriend and lover was on his knee before him with a small box that opened to reveal a simple gold band.

“Will you marry me?” the words took a while to work through his sluggish brain. Sherlock was asking him to marry him. Boyfriend was about to become fiance, and that would soon be husband, and John was getting lightheaded and giddy just thinking about it.

“Oh god, yes.” he said in answer, and Sherlock put the ring on his finger with a smug grin on his face before pulling him down for another passionate kiss that promised to lead to plenty of “we're engaged now” sex.


End file.
